


Mama, Don't Preach

by Annaelle



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M, Modern AU, Teenage Pregnancy, some minor angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-21
Updated: 2015-09-08
Packaged: 2018-03-14 00:31:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3401879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Annaelle/pseuds/Annaelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She’s not one of those stupid little girls who has unprotected sex with their high school boyfriend and gets knocked up before she’s even turned eighteen. And yet,  here she is.<br/>MODERN BELLARKE AU. TEENAGE PREGNANCY.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Don't Preach

**Author's Note:**

> So, I had the idea and I figured I might as well write it down. Should I continue? 
> 
> Oh, also, I have a few other WIP for the 100--there's a sneak peek for one of them (also a modern!AU) in the notes below the chapter. 
> 
> Please leave a review! 
> 
> PS This is not beta'd, all grammar mistakes are all mine.

**Mama, Don’t Preach**

**Chapter One—Don’t Preach**

_Papa don't preach,_  
I'm in trouble deep  
Papa don't preach,   
I've been losing sleep  
But I made up my mind,   
I'm keeping my baby

_I'm gonna keep my baby_

_He says that he's going to marry me_  
We can raise a little family  
Maybe we'll be all right  
It's a sacrifice

_But my friends keep telling me to give it up  
Saying I'm too young, I ought to live it up_  
 _What I need right now is some good advice, please_  
—Papa Don’t Preach, Madonna

“Clarke?”

Clarke winces when she hears Octavia knock on her bathroom door repeatedly, worry clearly audible in her voice.

“Clarke, are you okay? You’ve been in there for like half an hour.”

She sits up shakily, wiping her mouth on a piece of toilet paper before flushing the toilet. “Yeah,” she replies in a brittle voice, “I’m fine. Just a little… Little nauseated.” She closes her eyes and takes a few deep breaths to steady herself before she opens the door and offers Octavia a tight smile. “Must’ve been the taco’s. My stomach doesn’t always want to process Mexican food.”

Octavia eyes her curiously for another moment—damn it, why does her boyfriend’s sister have to be so damn perceptive?—before nodding slowly, seemingly accepting her explanation. It is, after all, not _really_ a lie.

Clarke really does have a sensitive stomach.

“Okay,” Octavia says slowly, biting her lip, “Bell just texted. He and Lincoln are like ten minutes out.”

“Great,” Clarke smiles—a little more convincingly this time, because she hasn’t seen Bellamy in three months and she hates missing her boyfriend for so long—, running her fingers through her messy curls, “Are the others staying when they get here?”

The others, namely Raven, Finn, Jasper, Monty and Harper, came over to Octavia and Bellamy’s house—really, more of Octavia and Clarke’s now that Bellamy is away at college—to keep the girls company while they waited for their boyfriends to come home. Bellamy and Lincoln, while not too keen about each other when they first met (which probably had more to do with Bellamy’s overprotective brother instincts than it did with Lincoln), had decided to room together when they decided to go to the same college one state over.

They formed a rather peculiar but close friendship over the years Lincoln had been dating Octavia.

Clarke is still jealous that Lincoln and Octavia had managed to get together and fall into a relationship so easily while it had taken her and Bellamy nearly a year and a half of dancing around each other before they’d been able to actually admit their feelings for each other—not that they had been able to keep their hands off of each other in that period.

She’d been only fifteen back then, but she’d had a thing for Bellamy since they were kids—she knew that he felt it for her too, but she was afraid of what would happen if she did ever try to date him, so she didn’t.

She’d also dated Finn Collins, who was new in town, for a bit to get over what she felt for Bellamy—because it was just too scary to admit that she was in love with her best friend’s seventeen year-old brother—, but never got too serious with him, thank God.

After six months of dating, on their Spring Dance—coincidently also the night Clarke had decided that she would let him be her first, like he’d been shyly suggesting for a while—his girlfriend from his hometown showed up.

Needless to say, Clarke did not go home with Finn that night.

She’d called Bellamy—because she really didn’t want to have to explain it to her mom, who would probably have insisted on hearing Finn out, because he was ‘such a nice, polite young man with a good reputation’, and her dad, who would only shake his head and hold her while she cried—who came to pick her up immediately, pausing only to punch Finn in the face and to ask Raven (Finn’s other girlfriend) if she needed a ride somewhere.

After that, she’d stuck to Bellamy like glue, and while Finn ( _and_ Raven) still attended Ark High School, she was able to avoid him. She and Bellamy didn’t kiss until _his_ Prom though, over six months later—he’d asked her to be his date, and when she said no, bribed her with Oreo’s and B &J’s into saying yes.

They’d also shared a lot more than her first real kiss that night.

And while they were closer after that, they were also more distant—well, _she_ was a lot more distant.

It had taken her father dying for Clarke to realize she was wasting precious time by keeping Bellamy at an arm’s length.

That was two years ago.

She and Bellamy had hit a rough patch when he first went to college, but they were well past that, and Clarke was looking forward to joining him and Lincoln at Whitmore College after the summer.

She sighs heavily as Octavia heads back to the living room, swallowing thickly.

Yeah.

She _was_ looking forward to it—not that she thinks that’ll be happening anytime soon now.

She glances at the clock and curses herself (and the damn clock) for not having figured out what the tell Bellamy days ago—now she has less than ten minutes to figure out how to get her boyfriend alone (which will probably be the easiest part of the night) and how to tell him, without him freaking out, that they are going to have to alter every single plan they had made for the future because of one stupid, drunken night.

She’d gone to see him over the weekend a couple of months ago, joined him at a frat party, got _very_ drunk and had her way with her equally drunk boyfriend in a broom closet of all places.

Without using protection, of course.

She feels like an idiot when she thinks about it now—she knows better than this.

She’s not one of those stupid little girls who has unprotected sex with their high school boyfriend and gets knocked up before she’s even turned eighteen.

And yet,  here she is.

Sure, her boyfriend isn’t in high school anymore, and it’s not like she and Bellamy aren’t sure about each other or their relationship, but it’s not what they _planned_.

And that scares the hell out of her.

Not to mention that her mother is going to murder her, and Bellamy, and then her again, because Doctor Abbigail Griffin cannot handle the possibility of their good family name being tarnished—she nearly blew a gasket when Clarke and Bellamy started dating in the first place.

“Clarke? Are you just going to stand there for the rest of the night?”

She jumps a little when Octavia calls out to her, shaking off her—far too panicked and confused—thoughts, before smoothing her hands down her shirt, lingering briefly on the slight swell, where she knows her and Bellamy’s baby is growing.

“No, I—” She swallows thickly and shakes her head before joining the others in the living room, “I was just texting mom.”

Raven snorts and tosses a piece of popcorn at Clarke’s head as she retakes her seat on the saggy couch, eyeing the television as she tries to catch up with the movie. Finn is spread out on the armchair to her right, and Jasper, Monty and Harper are lying on their stomachs on the carpet, half on top of each other.

She allows herself to relax, enjoying the movie while listening intently for the unmistakable sound of Bellamy’s old Ford pickup truck turning onto the driveway. And the second she hears it, she and Octavia are moving, racing to the door to greet their boyfriends. Clarke giggles as she watches Octavia jump Lincoln before he’s even properly gotten out of the car, temporarily distracted by everyone else leaving the house, and then, before she knows it, Bellamy is standing before her, grinning down at her.

“Hey there, Princess,” he strokes her cheek gently before leaning in to kiss her.

“Hi,” she whispers breathlessly when he finally leans back, her head spinning as she tries to convince herself to give herself and him one more careless night together before she tells him, before she screws _everything_ up by saying the words out loud…

But this is Bellamy, and he’s always been able to read her a little too well.

“What’s wrong?” He frowns and it makes him look sad, and Clarke really hates that look on his face—she really, _really_ hates it—so she presses her fingers to his forehead, smoothing out the creases as she whispers, “We need to talk.”

“What is it?”

_Of course,_ he would push it, _of course,_ he wouldn’t just wait until they are inside, away from prying eyes, and he’s gripping her waist tightly, refusing to let her go and— _oh_.

He thinks she’s going to break up with him.

She nearly snorts—that’s the last thing she wants to do right now.

“I—” she glances over her shoulder to the house, biting her lip as she adds, “We really should go inside to talk about this, Bellamy…”

“No,” he shakes his head stubbornly, “Clarke, tell me what’s going on. Right now.” His large hands come up to frame her face (her heart skips several beats) and his eyes are wide and pleading. “Please, Clarke. What’s wrong?”

Tears are burning in her eyes and she feels like she’s about to choke on her own tongue, but Bellamy needs to hear this, and he needs to hear it from her—not that anyone else knows yet, but still. She takes a deep breath and bites her lip before meeting his intense gaze.

“I’m pregnant.”


	2. I Won't Run Away

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... I didn't think you'd mind another short chapter--you all seemed pretty eager to see Bellamy's reaction to Clarke's little revelation... So here's the follow-up. I have a few WIP's right now, so I'm not sure how long updates will be spaced apart, but I'll try to update every other day. 
> 
> For you guys, here's a little homework assignment--please give me a few prompts about what you wanna see in this universe. 
> 
> Please leave a little comment! 
> 
> Love, Annaelle

**Chapter Two—I Won’t Run Away**

_All young lovers, who come this way_ __  
Who can't sleep nights and worry all day  
They don't regret seeing it through

_And you know in your heart that's what we've gotta do_

_And I won't run away—your baby's mine too_

_I won't run away, I'm in love with you_ __  
I won't run away and get out of touch  
I won't run away

_I love you too much_

_Come with me baby, let's tell her tonight_ __  
Get it out in the open and into the light  
And I know, it won't be no surprise

_Cause she knows about you_

_She can tell us where we go from here_

_And She'll brush away all your worries and fears_ _  
And I know, she will drown in her tears_ __  
If you won't let her help you  
—I Won’t Run Away, Alvin Stardust

**_Clarke_ **

In all the years that she’s known Bellamy, Clarke has never seen him speechless.

Not when she announced, at five years old, that they were going to get married because he was the prettiest boy she knew, not when his and Octavia’s mom died of a drug overdose, not when Octavia came to him with a pregnancy scare at fifteen, not when Clarke first started dating Finn, not when Clarke and her mom had a _huge_ falling out and she practically moved in with the Blake siblings, not even when they first kissed.

But he is now—his mouth is ajar, his eyes are wide, and he’s so still, Clarke is pretty sure he’s gone into shock. “Bell?” She asks gently, reaching up to wrap her fingers around his wrists, “Bellamy? Are you okay?” He doesn’t say anything when she gently pulls his hands off her cheeks, lacing their fingers together, but he does move, snapping his mouth shut and clenching his jaw— _shit,_ she knows that look and she’s in _so much_ trouble.

“Come on,” she rasps, blinking back tears—God, she can’t _stand_ this, she _hates_ that she can’t get a read on him—as she tugs on his hands, “Let’s go inside. We can talk more there.”

He doesn’t say anything while she drags him inside, leaving Octavia and Lincoln by the car—she doubts those two have registered anything but each other—, up to his ( _her_ ) bedroom. She pushes him into the room and shuts the door softly, taking a moment to sort out her thoughts as she watches Bellamy practically collapse on the bed, burying his face in his hands.

Her heart squeezes painfully and she swallows thickly.

“Bellamy, say something,” she pleads, moving to sit next to him on the bed, reaching for his hands. “Please.”

She shivers when he takes a deep, shuddering breath before lifting his face from his hands, his eyes dark and slightly bloodshot as he looks at her. “Are you sure?” He croaks, his fingers twitching against hers, his tone almost desperate (and she can’t blame him, she spent a good few days trying to deny it as well before she caved and took several pregnancy tests) for her to say ‘no’.

“Yeah,” she whispers shakily, “I took seven tests. They’re all positive.”

He groans quietly and rubs his hands through his hair—she really, _really_ hates this—before he sits up again, biting his lip nervously as he studies her. “What are we—what do you—” He breaks off and swallows thickly and she shakes her head.

“I don’t know,” she says softly, hesitantly leaning into him, relaxing slightly when he wraps his arms around her, “I don’t know what we’re supposed to do now.”

She feels him sigh and plays with his fingers as she waits for him to speak again, chewing on her lip lightly as she considers their options, like she knows he is too—they’re both very rational people (though Bellamy sometimes forgets that he’s actually capable of rational thinking and just dives headfirst into things without considering the consequences) and when it comes to their future, they both like to have everything completely planned out.

“Do you—” Bellamy sighs again and she looks up at him, unsure of what he wants to say. “Do you want to keep it?” He continues uncertainly, his eyes darting down to her belly before he looks up at her face again, and she bites her lip uncertainly.

“I don’t know,” she admits quietly, “I kind of do… But I don’t—” She pulls herself from his arms—reluctantly—and shuffles away from him a little so she can actually look at him. “Do _you_ want this? Because… If,” she falters, fear squeezing at her insides, “If we keep it… We can’t change our minds. And if we did, how would we even—I can’t… I’d have to postpone going to school for at least a couple of years, and I’d need to get a job, and… I’d have to see if I can access my trust fund early… Maybe I can get mom to sign the papers and—”

“Clarke, Clarke, stop,” Bellamy grips her shoulders, offering her a slightly amused smile. “We don’t have to decide what to do right away, okay? And whatever we decide to do,” he adds, swallowing thickly and gripping her hand tightly, “I’ll be right here with you. _That_ ,” he nods towards her belly nervously, “that’s mine too. Okay?”

She nods shakily, unable to hold back her tears this time. She’s not even sure why she’s crying, but it seems Bellamy isn’t all that surprised. She doesn’t protest when he scoots back to lie on his bed and opens his arms for her—she just crawls closer and snuggles into his side, sliding one hand beneath his shirt to rest just above the waistband of his jeans and resting her head on his shoulder as he hugs her close.

She hadn’t realized how much she just _needs_ this—she _needs_ to be in Bellamy’s arms, and she just needs to know that he’s in this with her.

“We’ll figure it out, Princess,” he tells her quietly, “We always do.”

She smiles a little against his chest and nods slowly—he’s right, they really do figure it out every time. They’ve made it through rough times before, and she’s sure that, whatever they decide, they will make it through this too.

“We’re going to have to tell Octavia,” she remarks offhandedly after a short silence, tracing circles onto his shirt-covered chest, giggling when he groans loudly, undoubtedly picturing his sister’s reaction to hearing she’d be an aunt—whether they decided to keep the baby or not.

She feels slightly nauseous at the idea of making _that_ particular choice and decides not to think about it until both she and Bellamy have had a chance to process the idea—until they’re ready to talk about their options.

They fall silent again, and Clarke starts to drift off as she listens to Bellamy’s steady breathing, relaxing fully in his warm embrace—for the first time since she found out about the pregnancy.

“Hey Clarke?”

She’s too sleepy to really respond, so she just snuggles into him more, tightening her grip on his shirt and burying her nose against his shoulder. She feels his chest vibrate with a soft chuckle, but it’s still not good enough to make her wake up again and she just sighs happily.

“You know,” Bellamy’s voice is soft and calm and it soothes her frayed nerves and _God_ , she _loves_ him, “I don’t think I have the guts to tell you when you’re awake, but… I’m sort of happy about this. I think I might want this—us, the baby… I don’t mind that it happened a little earlier than we planned. I love you, and we’re going to be fine. I promise.”

In her dream, she manages to tell him that she loves him too.

And in her dream, she’s brave enough to admit that, maybe, she kind of want this too. 


	3. With Arms Wide Open

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, small time jump in this chapter. There will be another one in the next chapter.  
> And I have decided to write this story with each chapter like a oneshot (some shorter, some longer). I hope this doesn't get lost with the episode coming out tonight ;)
> 
> Thanks for all the love and support, you guys! Love you all!  
> Leave a little review please :D 
> 
> Let me know what you really want to see in this story, btw!
> 
> Love, Annaelle

**Chapter Three—With Arms Wide Open**

_With arms wide open_  
Under the sunlight  
Welcome to this place  
I'll show you everything  
With arms wide open  
With arms wide open

 _Well I don't know if I'm ready_  
To be the man I have to be  
I'll take a breath, I'll take her by my side  
We stand in awe, we've created life  
—With Arms Wide Open, Creed

**Bellamy  
A Few Weeks Later**

He is glad the first part of the semester is over—being away from Clarke for three weeks _knowing_ that she’s carrying his baby was absolute torture—and that he’s finally going to see her again. They’d decided to spend the last weekend before spring break in his dorm room—partly because Clarke really wanted to get away from Ark for a bit and spend time with him without anyone interrupting, and partly because they wanted to be able to go to a doctor to have their first ultrasound without Clarke’s mom immediately finding out.

And that’s exactly what would have happened had they booked the appointment back home.

Clarke’s mom is the Chief of Surgery—nothing happens in that damn hospital without her mother knowing about it.

He and Clarke hadn’t really had the chance to make any big decisions just yet—he’d only been back in town for the weekend and he’d needed most of the weekend to process the news (he’s pretty sure that Clarke had needed the weekend to come to terms with everything too). They’d talked a little—Clarke had told him that she was too far along for an abortion already (he’d thanked God for that, because even thinking about it made him feel sick) and that they’d have to decide between keeping the baby and giving it up for adoption.

She’d been pretty adamant about not telling anyone until they’d decided what to do.

She’d conceded when he wanted to tell Octavia and Lincoln, so they wouldn’t be alone in this.

(He’d also insisted so _she_ wouldn’t be alone in everything. He knows his sister will take care of Clarke when she needs it and Octavia is the only person he knows that is more stubborn than his Princess is.)

He’d vented to Lincoln about everything that was running through his mind on more than one occasion over the past three weeks, and the whole spending-the-weekend-together-without-interruptions had been Lincoln’s idea.

He’s looking forward to it.

He and Clarke need this weekend together, not just to talk about the future, but also to reconnect as a couple.

He puts a little more effort into cleaning his and Lincoln’s dorm than he usually does while he waits for Clarke’s text to pick her up from the train station, trying to keep his thoughts about the baby in check—he’s been going back and forth between being elated (because honestly, he’s having a baby with the woman he loves, and he really doesn’t care that it’s happening way too early) and being absolutely fucking terrified (because _holy shit_ , he’s going to be responsible for a tiny little human being).

He and Clarke still haven’t really talked about what they’re going to do, but he knows that once they see the baby on the ultrasound picture, he’s not going to be able to let go.

He hasn’t admitted this to Clarke yet—he almost doesn’t want to.

She’s _young_ , and she’s supposed to be looking forward to college life, to going out and having a good time without having to worry about having a boyfriend and a baby to come home to. He doesn’t want her to feel trapped, and he’s afraid that’s exactly what will happen if he tells her he’s considering keeping their baby.

He’s terrified that she’ll start resenting him, and he can’t—

He doesn’t want to consider that, because he _loves_ Clarke, and he knows he’s never going to love anyone like he loves Clarke. But he also knows that she’s far too good for him and that he’ll never really deserve her and he’s frightened of the day she’ll realize that too.

He sighs heavily and plops down on his bed, rubbing his hand through his curls.

He needs to stop overthinking this.

It’s not going to do anyone any good if he thinks himself into a panic attack.

He jumps when his phone buzzes against his thigh, scolding himself a little for being such a worrywart—it’s all going to be fine, just like he’d promised Clarke. He slips his phone from his pocket and shoots a quick reply to Clarke, jumping to his feet and shrugging on his leather jacket to go pick up his girlfriend at the train station.

He sighs.

They’ve got a long weekend ahead of them.

.

.

.

**Clarke  
The next day**

She shivers a little as she steps out of the shower, carefully listening for any movement from the bedroom, where she left her boyfriend (he was sleeping like a log, snoring lightly, and she knows he was exhausted, so she let him sleep). With a soft sigh, she slips into her underwear and towel-dries her hair, before coming to a stop before the mirror.

Hesitantly, she turns and examines her reflection from the side, her throat tightening as she realizes a small baby bump is already visible. Her hands shake as she lowers them to cover the small bump—she hadn’t allowed herself to think about the pregnancy too much just yet, but she’s well aware that after this weekend, she’ll have to face it.

She’s just…

She doesn’t know what the hell she’s doing.

What they’re doing.

She’s barely seventeen, for God’s sake—sure, she and Bellamy have a long history and they’ve been dating for far longer than either of them really wants to admit (because they’d screwed around for ages before manning up and making it official), but that doesn’t mean they’re ready to have a baby together.

She can barely take care of herself some days, much less a tiny little baby.

She doesn’t even have her GED—hell, Bellamy is only months from getting his masters degree in Ancient Roman and Greek History, and she knows he planned on continuing to get a doctorate.

If they keep the baby, they won’t be able to do any of that.

“Whatcha doing, Princess?”

She doesn’t startle when Bellamy appears in the doorway in nothing but his boxers, arms crossed over his chest and one infuriating eyebrow raised at her.

“Just looking,” she replies quietly, not taking her eyes off of her reflection as she cups the bump in her hands. She sighs happily when he moves to join her in front of the mirror, sliding his hands around her waist before resting them on top of hers.

“I didn’t realize you were showing already,” he says softly, meeting her eyes in the mirror, his fingers twitching on top of hers.

Something about him acknowledging the baby, the pregnancy, feels so _right_ that—just for a moment—she can’t fathom giving up the baby once it’s born. It was the option she was leaning towards, because she _knows_ they aren’t equipped to take care of a baby—Bellamy doesn’t even have a real apartment, and they don’t have the _money_ to be able to take care of an infant.

It’s insanity to consider keeping their baby.

But as she studies their reflection in the mirror, she can _see_ their future _with_ their baby and she knows that they could do it—they could have their baby and they _could_ be okay. They could make it and have the life they planned—just a little earlier than they had thought it would happen.

Maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing.

“Do you want this?” She asks quietly, never once taking her eyes off of Bellamy’s. “Do you want to keep it?” She’s nervous, afraid of what his answer will be—she doesn’t even know what she _wants_ his answer to be—and squeezes his fingers between hers tightly.

He eyes her a little apprehensively, rubbing his fingers over her little baby bump in a comforting gesture before he responds, “Will you hate me if I say yes?”

“I don’t think I could ever hate you,” she chuckles, finally turning away from the mirror, biting her lip as she faces him. “I think I kind of want this too.” She looks down and swallows thickly before whispering, “I’m just scared. I don’t… I _want_ to do this, but I don’t know _how_ we will be able to do this. I’m _scared_ , Bell.”

“Me too, Clarke,” he hugs her close as she presses her face into his chest, “But we can do this. We’re not going to be alone in this. And I love you.” She smiles against his chest when he kisses the top of her head, her heart fluttering a little in her chest.

He’s right.

They _can_ do this.

They _will_ do this.

Together.


	4. Chapter Four—Run, Bellamy, Run

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone!
> 
> Sorry for the long wait on this! I'm just making this up as I go along, so if you guys have any requests of what you'd like to see, please, feel free to make them.
> 
> Also, I've answered this directly to a few reviewers, but I thought I'd say it again, Bellamy is four years and a bit older than Clarke. I'm going with a European college system, which is the one I'm studying in, since I know little to nothing about the American version. Where I live, it is entirely possible to be finished with a Master's degree by age 22 or 23.
> 
> So, for future reference, Bellamy is 22 going on 23, Clarke is 17 going on 18.
> 
> They started dating when she was fifteen, but they didn't actually have sex until she was sixteen, which was well over seven months after they first started dating. Before that, Clarke had a huge crush on him and was in love with him, and he had a thing for her too, but they didn't act on it until later.  
> She dated Finn for a while when she was fifteen. I hope that clears it up a little for those who were confused.
> 
> Anyway, let me know what you think :D
> 
> Any and all requests for things you would like to see in this universe are welcome.
> 
> Love, Annaelle
> 
> PS This is unbeta'd, so all mistakes are mine; also, I've never been pregnant, so I'm just using my own limited knowledge on the subject, and what Doctor Google and Grey's Anatomy have told me ;)

**Chapter Four—Run, Bellamy, Run**

_Mommy, please don't_ _  
_ _It wasn't his fault_ _  
_ _He means so much to me_ _  
_ _Mommy please don't_ _  
_ _We're gonna get married_ _  
_ _Just you wait and see_

_…_

_She called me up, late that night_  
She said, "Bellamy, don't come over,  
My Mom and I just had a fight  
And she stormed out the door

_I've never seen her act this way,  
My God, she's goin' crazy  
She said she's gonna make you pay  
For what we done, she's got a gun_   
_So run, Bellamy, run!_

_—Run Joey Run, David Geddes_

**Clarke—two months later**

The gel is cold on her skin, her baby's heartbeat is loud in her ears and Bellamy's hand is warm on hers, and she's  _really_  tired.

Five months.

Today is her five-month-mark, and she still hasn't told her mother about the baby. She and Bellamy had decided to keep the baby—the decision still terrifies her, and she's afraid of how their future is going to turn out now, but she knows that they can do it.

Bellamy had been right when he had confessed to her that he couldn't imagine  _not_  keeping their child.

She, too, had been struggling with the idea of having to give up the little life she and Bellamy created.

She rubs her free hand over the top of her swollen belly—she's not showing a lot, even at five months, but her OB/GYN had already told her that that wasn't necessarily a bad thing, as long as the baby is growing properly.

Some girls just don't show much, and apparently, she is one of them.

Bellamy comes home every other weekend now, catching as many appointments with her as he can, because he insists on being there to hold her hand and support her through the whole thing and it makes her want to cry— _the whole damn time_.

Which makes her want to slap him for making her cry in the first place, even if it happened because he was being too damn sweet.

"Your baby looks perfectly healthy," the young OB/GYN smiles at them, and Clarke's heart starts pounding when the woman studies the ultrasound carefully before turning to them with an excited smile. "Would you like to know the sex of your baby?"

Clarke giggles when Bellamy nods enthusiastically, his hand tightening around hers. "Yes," he chuckles, "yes, we would really like to know. You can tell, right? It's not too early?"

The doctor smiles indulgently and shakes her head. "No, I can tell that you have a very proud little boy growing in there." Clarke's heart skips a beat and her eyes fill with tears as she stares at the blurry ultrasound, her hand reaching out to trace the outline of their  _son_.

"Oh my God," she chokes, "A boy."

She looks up at Bellamy with watery eyes, not at all surprised to see his eyes looking suspicious teared up as well. "We're having a boy," she tells him weakly, her lips trembling as she attempts not to cry—she  _hates_  being this emotional—tugging on his hand, "A boy, Bell."

"I know," he smiles back, leaning in to press a kiss to her lips, "I know, Princess. A boy."

They thank the doctor when she offers to print out a few pictures of their baby and Bellamy helps Clarke wipe the gel off her stomach while they wait for their pictures.

"Are you happy about this?" Bellamy suddenly inquires, when he helps Clarke straighten out her shirt, and she is slightly caught off guard by how serious he sounds.

"Of course I am," she reassures him, reaching up to touch his cheek, "I love you. And I love our baby."

She's not completely oblivious as to why he's asking—she realizes that this is going to be very hard for the both of them, what with Bellamy barely finishing his degree before the baby will be born and Clarke having to put going to college on hold for a while and having to find jobs to support their little family—but she does hope that he's put the doubts behind him.

He sighs heavily and pulls her into his arms, where she snuggles up gladly—she loves his warm bear hugs (they're the only way she can be comfortable anymore). "I know," he mutters against her hair, "I love you both too… it's just… We haven't even told your mom yet, and the baby's going to be here in four months." They'd planned this visit to their OB/GYN purposefully, since it was their first in Ark General Hospital.

They had both been well aware that Clarke's mom would hear about the visit the moment they entered the hospital.

"I know," Clarke whines, "but we have to."

She giggles when she feels his heavy sigh rumble through his chest, squeezing his hand reassuringly. She is not looking forward to telling her mother any more than he is, but she also knows they've put it off as long as they possibly could.

Any longer and her mother would find out when Clarke was in labor at the hospital.

"I suppose we have to," he admits grudgingly, "We've put it off long enough."

She chuckles a little at the way his entire body tenses at the mere  _thought_  of having to face her mother—she knows it's not just about the baby; her mother had never liked Bellamy. Back when Clarke had first started dating Bellamy, she'd thought it was because he was older; she didn't blame her mom for not like the idea of her sixteen-year-old dating a twenty-year-old, but she  _did_  blame her mother for holding a grudge even now, after everything that had happened.

Even when her dad had died, her mom had only made a fuss and showed emotion when Bellamy showed up at the funeral to pay his respects to Clarke's dad and to hold her hand when she needed him to.

It had been the reason Clarke all but moved out of her parents' house in her junior year.

It's part of the reason Clarke and her mom have barely spoken over the past two and a half years.

"I'm actually kind of surprised she hasn't burst in here yet," Bellamy chuckles as he ties Clarke's Converses—small as the baby bump is, she can't actually bend over comfortably and tie her shoelaces, and she absolutely  _hates_  it—grinning up at her from beneath his freakishly long, pretty eyelashes.

"Yeah," she sighs, looking over her shoulder at the closed door, "Me too. She might be in surgery though." She doesn't want to think too much about her mother—thinking about her mother's reaction really stresses her out, and she  _knows_  she needs to watch her blood pressure and stress levels because too much can be bad for her baby—, but now that they're so close to telling her mom, she can't really  _stop_  thinking about her either.

"In any case," Bellamy smiles as he straightens, taking a step forward so he's standing between her legs, his hands resting on her upper thighs, "you shouldn't worry so much about it. We both know she's going to scream at me first, then at you for being stupid enough to get knocked up, then rage at us both for ruining the good family name or some kind of crap and then not speak to either of us for a week before she shows up at our place, like nothing ever happened."

Clarke snorts and shrugs, but she has to admit that he's probably right.

"Okay, Miss Griffin and Mister Blake," the OB/GYN re-enters the room with an envelope and a few papers, "Here are your pictures, and I set the date for your next appointment on Saturday the 25th in four weeks."

Clarke nods and smiles as Bellamy helps her hop off the examination table—not that she's incapable of doing it herself, but she knows he likes to feel like he's taking care of her—before taking the envelope and carefully pulling one of the ultrasound pictures from it, studying the image of her baby boy with watery eyes.

On the one hand, it's still so hard to comprehend that there's really a  _baby_  growing in her belly. It feels almost impossible to contemplate that she and Bellamy will have an actual human being to take care of in less than four months—not to mention that it is still an absolutely terrifying thought.

They haven't really decided where they'll be living; she knows she won't be going to college for at least a year, and that Bell will have to get a job somewhere the second he graduates so they'll have a steady income—at the very least until she turns twenty-one, when she'll get access to the trust fund her dad left her.

On the other hand…  _She_  made that. She and Bellamy created the life inside of her and she's in awe of how  _beautiful_  she already thinks he is.

It's scary to think that just one little image can inspire such conflicting feelings within her.

"You ready, Princess?"

She looks up at Bellamy, her lower lip wobbling and her eyes wet with unshed tears, and she knows she won't even have to say anything, because somehow, he always seems to know why she's scared, and he always knows how to make it better.

This time is no different.

Bellamy draws her into his arms and kisses the top of her head and whispers reassurances into her ear and though she would usually balk at being treated like a fragile little girl, she allows him to guide her outside, to their car and lets him drive her home.

Inside, they're immediately bombarded with questions and demands to see the pictures from all their friends—Raven is particularly vocal about wanting to see the proof that her godson (their friends had taken it upon themselves to decide who the godparents were going to be, and only deigned to inform her and Bell when they'd made their decision) is not going to look like a damn alien.

She lets Bellamy shoo Jasper and Monty off of her favorite leather armchair before settling in it herself, smiling at the rowdy bunch of idiots that she tends to call family more than her actual relatives. "So," Octavia pipes up as she squints at the picture, "It's a boy, right? Don't you dare let Bell name him—he'll saddle the kid with some kind of ancient roman name. Don't do that to your son."

"Hey," Bellamy protests, "Augustus is a very strong name! There's nothing wrong with it!" Clarke suppresses a giggle when he looks down at her with a small pout and reaches out to pat his arm.

"Of course it is, honey."

Everyone laughs at Bellamy's expense, before Finn casually suggests they should get lunch ready and watch a movie—or something.

Clarke smiles tightly when he winks at her and tucks herself a little closer to Bellamy; after everything that had happened between her and Finn and Raven, she hadn't really thought about him much. Of course, they'd been kids, and when Raven—who'd become her best friend quite rapidly—came to her and confided in her that Finn had apologized sincerely and wanted to become friends again, she had forgiven him.

After all, Finn was just a kid too, when he'd "cheated" on her and Raven.

After a while, they'd started to include him in their little group of friends—but Clarke still didn't feel a hundred percent comfortable around him, and everyone knew it too.

"What are you in the mood for?" Bellamy inquires sweetly when the others start bickering over what to watch, "Should I cook or do you want pizza or Chinese?"

She considers his request seriously for a few minutes—she's always taken her food seriously, but it seems her baby has already inherited all her peculiarities about food as well—before requesting he order her a large pizza with extra cheese, extra olives and anchovies. She chuckles at the look of disgust that crosses his face—he  _hates_  anchovies with an astonishing passion—before he kisses her and then goes to get the phone and order.

She watches him, suddenly feeling  _very_  appreciative of the way his jeans hugs his delectable bottom, when Raven plops down next to her, tossing her arm over Clarke's shoulder as she does. "So," Raven grins, "Whatcha think of the newbies?"

The newbies—being three of Lincoln's friends from school (Clarke thinks she remembers Octavia mentioning them meeting in art class or something)—are sitting somewhat stiffly on the couch, watching as Octavia dominates the discussion on what to watch while they eat (Clarke knows they'll probably end up watching The Avengers— _again_ —or Captain America— _again_ —or something Marvel-universe-related, and she'll probably fall asleep halfway through and start drooling on Bellamy's shoulder, so she really doesn't bother butting into the discussion).

Clarke had already decided she liked Lexa and Anya well enough—they were nice, and if they weren't a couple (and if she wasn't in love with Bellamy) she would definitely have thought about taking Lexa up on her joking proposition to let Lexa show her what she was missing out on by being with Bellamy only—but she wasn't too sure about Echo.

She'd seen the way the other girl had been eyeing up her boyfriend, and she was well aware that Echo did not respect the fact that Bellamy was in a committed relationship as much as Lexa and Anya seemed to. Of course, Clarke's well aware that her pregnancy hormones have made her  _slightly_  more jealous of other females approaching her boyfriend, so she's decided not to hold Echo's appreciative glances at Bellamy against her.

After all, Bellamy  _is_  handsome.

As long as Echo sticks to looking and never touching, she supposes she could learn to tolerate her existence.

"They're pretty cool," Clarke shrugs, patting Raven's knee, "they have my stamp of approval."

Raven grunts and eyes them up before nodding. "Yeah… They seem alright. Although that Echo girl better keep her grubby paws to herself—no one gets to look at him like that but you."

Clarke grins and leans back against the soft cushions as she rubs her belly. Raven had always been ridiculously protective of her relationship with Bellamy—Clarke wasn't sure why, but she suspected that Raven and Bellamy had struck up some kind of friendship the night he drove them home after finding out about Finn; he'd dropped Clarke off at his house first before taking Raven home—Clarke still had no idea what had been said that night, but she knows that Raven and Bell have been thick as thieves since.

"It's not a big deal," Clarke shrugs, soothing Raven's ruffled feathers, "Let her look. He's hot—I'm the only one who gets to sleep with him anyway."

She knows she's said the right thing when Raven presses a smacking wet kiss on her cheek and cheers, "That's my girl!" before skipping back over to where Monty and Jasper are still trying to convince Octavia of the merits of genetically manipulated dinosaurs from Jurassic World over the Avengers—as far as Clarke can tell though, Octavia is staying strong and defending Captain America and his team with well-chosen arguments.

They end up having a good time—everyone laughs when Octavia eventually crumbles and lets the boys watch Jurassic World, Clarke eats an entire pizza by herself, Lexa and Anya coo over the ultrasound pictures when Clarke shows them, and they end up talking for hours about Clarke's plans to move to Denver, so Bellamy could take a well-paid job at the university.

When Bellamy finally sees fit to kick everyone out—except for Lexa and Anya and Echo, who'll be staying in the spare room—it's nearly midnight, and Clarke has indeed fallen asleep on Bellamy's shoulder multiple times already.

She allows him to carry her to bed—she would put up a fight, but she's  _really_ tired and her feet are sore and she really just wants to cuddle and sleep—and hardly even grumbles when he pulls her jeans off and helps her into a large shirt of his that stretches comfortably over the expanse of her belly.

She's just settled under sheets, wrapped in the warm blanket like a burrito, watching through sleepy eyes as Bellamy undresses when the doorbell rings, followed by a series of rapid taps on the door. She whines under her breath and blinks sleepily when Bellamy pulls his shirt back on and stomps down the stairs, muttering under his breath angrily.

She doesn't really think much of it until she hears a shrill voice—that she'd recognize anywhere—yelling, "When were you planning on telling me you got my  _underage_  daughter  _pregnant_?"

She's instantly awake, panic coiling tightly in the pit of her belly.

Shit.

Facing her mom would apparently have to happen sooner rather than later.


End file.
